Between Two Worlds
by Kaena
Summary: Kristen lives in present day. On the outside she looks normal, but inside, she bears a fatal secret. When an accident sends her back in time to the Paris Opera House; will it be a dream come true, or a horrifying reality check?
1. The Contest

**

* * *

Between Two Worlds**

The 20 year old woman sat at the kitchen table eating a bowl of oatmeal and reading her favorite book: "The Phantom of the Opera" by Gaston Leroux. Suddenly, a voice broke her reverie.

"Kristen, that's the thousandth time you've read that book! Aren't you tired of it yet?" The voice belonged to Kristen's mother.

Kristen stood and kissed her mother's cheek. "You should know by now that I can never get tired of this book, Mom."

Two years ago, a car accident had left her mother paralyzed from the waist down and unable to care for herself. Since then, Kristen had undertaken the task of taking care of her mother and her 18 year old sister, Mhegan.

"I guess you're right. Where's your sister?"

"My guess is, she's still sleeping."

"Well, go and wake her up. Your school bus will be here any minute, and I don't want you late for college again."

Kristen marked her place in her book and headed up the stairs. _"Guess I'll have to do it the old fashioned way.'_

Mhegan slept peacefully dreaming about a quiet walk on the beach with her beau, Robert Chaney, when suddenly she was rudely awakened by a High C note sung loudly in her ear. Her eyes shot open and she stared into the smiling face of her sister, Kristen.

"It's time to get up, sis," she said sweetly.

Mhegan sat up and rubbed her eyes. "I kind of guessed that, Kris. What time is it?"

Kristen glanced at the clock on her nightstand. "It's almost eight."

At that news, Mhegan launched herself out of bed, threw on some clothes and dragged a brush through her frizzy, brown hair before pulling it back into a braid.

"I've always envied you, Kris. Your hair, I mean. It always does what it's supposed to do. It's so thick and full and looks great in any style."

"Well, yours would be that way too if you just took the time to care for it," Kristen replied, putting some stray books in her bag.

Suddenly, a horn honked from the driveway, and Kristen and Mhegan tore down the steps, heading for the door in a mad dash to catch the bus. Mhegan paused long enough to kiss her mother on the cheek and grab the warm, toasty Pop-Tart her mother had heated for her, and dashed out the door. Kristen paused long enough to also kiss her mother on the cheek, but instead of a Pop-Tart, she grabbed her "Phantom of the Opera" book, and sprinted out the door after her sister.

When Kristen climbed aboard the bus, she was dismayed to find only two seats left. Mhegan had already found a spot next to her beau, Robert. One seat was next to Kristen's arch rival in Music Class, Caroline Giovanni. _'No way, no how,'_ she thought. The only other seat was next to the rather cute, yet solitary, Michael Cranston. He sat near the back of the bus, intently reading a book. Kristen swallowed the lump in her throat and shyly approached his seat.

She cleared her throat. "Umm, is this seat taken?" she asked, meekly.

He glanced up at her, his piecing blue eyes locking with her warm hazel eyes, and he smiled slightly. "Not at all, please be my guest. Would you like to sit near the window, or on the aisle?"

"The aisle is fine. It doesn't matter to me." She sat down, pulled out her book and continued to read. Yet, she studied Michael out of the corner of her eye.

He stared at her for a moment; his expression seemed to border on the edge of... disappointment, it seemed like. He opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it, and turned back to his own book. Suddenly, Kristen realized it wasn't disappointment he was feeling; it was loneliness. Kristen's heart went out to him, and she decided to remedy her mistake. Closing her book, she leaned over slightly and tried to read a bit of his book.

"What are you reading?" she asked.

Michael seemed a bit shocked at first that she had actually said something to him. "It's called 'Phantom.' From the author, Susan Kay."

Kristen's eyes lit up happily. "I've always wanted to read that book! My sister told me about it. It's supposed to focus more on Erik's life growing up right?"

"You like the 'Phantom of the Opera'?"

Kristen held up her well worn copy of the unabridged version of Gaston Leroux's immortal love story. "It's my all time favorite. I must have this book about memorized by now, but I can't seem to put it down."

For the next half hour they talked about nothing save their views and beliefs about the books. When the bus finally reached the campus of the community college, Kristen and Michael found themselves unwilling to part from each other.

"What classes do you have?" he asked her. "Perhaps we might be in some together."

"English 112, Theatre 113, Speech 101, and Math 111."

Michael frowned. "I don't have any of those."

"What about after school? The only thing I have is my Choral Music lessons with Prof. Debbiene at four. We might be able to do something afterwards."

"You have Choral with Prof. Debbiene? I do too!"

"You're kidding! Oh, this is great!" She was about to say more, but the bell rang, signaling the start of classes. "This is wonderful! Well, I'll see you at three then. 'Bye Michael!"

Kristen turned and ran down the hall towards her fist class. Michael simply stared after the smiling, friendly angel that had graced his dreary, lonely existence with the ethereal light of a simple smile in his direction.

"Until then, my Angel. The hours shall seem eternal until I see you again."

Kristen stared at the clock, impatiently. It was 2:53, and the time seemed to drag on forever. _'Just two more minutes. I know I can wait that long.'_ She turned her attention away from the clock, and back to her Math textbook.

Before she knew it, the bell sounded, and Kristen tore out of the classroom and towards her Choral Class. She was relieved to find Michael already there, waiting for her; an empty seat next to him. She strode over to him, but just as she reached him, Caroline slid into the seat next to him. Shocked, Michael could do nothing except stare at Caroline, who merely grinned smugly at Kristen.

Kristen, who could barely hold back the tears that had threatened to fall down her cheeks, searched for an empty chair. To her dismay, her terrible luck had forced her to sit with Brandon Johnson. He was nice enough, but had terrible pitch and never sang on the right note. She glanced down at Mhegan, who saw the whole thing, and smiled at the sympathetic look her sister gave her.

Still, Kristen resolved to make the best of her situation, and was relieved when Prof. Debbiene entered the room. From the look on his face, it seemed he had something important to say, so Kristen pushed her problems aside and focused her attention on her music teacher.

Charles Debbiene stood before his pupils and cleared his throat. "Class," he began, in a slight French accent, "I have an extraordinary announcement to make. Several months ago, I sent in a rather important document to the Society for Preserving the Arts Foundation. They were doing a feature on the Paris Opera House and had come up with an extraordinary contest. Choral groups from all across the U.S. were invited to participate. The Choral group which sounded the best and most professional would be selected to travel to Paris and perform their own rendition of the "Phantom of the Opera." I am pleased to announce that, out of thousands of applications, our group was chosen to perform in Paris."

From all across the room, a collective cheer arose. But others, like Kristen, were still too shocked to take it all in. _'Paris,'_ she thought. _'The Paris Opera House. We get to perform the "Phantom of the Opera" at the place where the legend began!'_

Kristen knew that those who were silent like her were true Phantom Phans, like her. All the others were only interested in the fact that they'd be going to Paris and be performing in front of an audience. She turned and saw the same look of shock on Michael's face. He caught her glance and held it.

In that instant, the entire world melted away, and time seemed to stand still. _'This is it,'_ he thought. _'This is our time to shine. This is what I dreamed. From the first moment I saw her. We'll be together; on stage. And we'll shine. We'll shine together.'_


	2. Tryouts

**Chapter Two**

The next day, Kristen couldn't wait for Choral Class to begin. She had somehow managed to get through her other classes, but her impatient side was getting the best of her. She couldn't wait, because tryouts were going to start that day. Kristen pondered her teacher's words from the day before.

_"If at all possible, I would like us to perform, as accurately as possible, Andrew Lloyd Webber's 'Phantom of the Opera' musical. I know many of you are fond of it's music, as I have heard some of you singing bits and pieces of it before practice."_

Prof. Debbiene had looked squarely at Kristen when he said that last remark, which had caused her to blush. She was proud of her voice, and the extensive training she had undergone to bring it out to its fullest. Her daily regimen had been the same since she was 16.

She would wake at 5:30 every morning, and drink 8 oz. of water to clear her throat. The water was set a certain temperature so as not to shock her larynx. Then after about an hour of scales to stretch her arytenoids and loosen the thyroid cartilage, she would sing parts of a few opera songs to ensure her larynx was fully warmed up. During the day, she would drink plenty of water to ensure her vocal chords stayed moist. She had done this every day and during her last check-up with her doctor, he had pronounced her as perfectly healthy.

Kristen was shaken from her reverie by a voice. She turned to see Michael jogging down the hall towards her. She waited until he caught up with her and caught his breath before starting down the hall again.

"You shouldn't run like that," she admonished, lightly. "The last thing you need is to strain the muscles of your diaphragm right before try-outs."

"Sorry," he panted, "I was running a little late. What part are you going to try for?"

"I'm trying for Christine, but I'm a little worried. Caroline said she was going for that part too. I'd be mortified if she showed me up."

"But she does have a good voice, Kristen. Granted, she probably doesn't have the same professional training that we've had, she's doing pretty well for herself."

Kristen didn't feel like talking about Caroline. "What about you, Michael? What part are you trying for?"

"Erik," he said simply.

Kristen knew then that he was a true Phantom Phan. Any other person would have said "I'm trying for the part of 'The Phantom'," but Michael had called Erik by name. She was glad now that she was absolutely sure.

They made it to the classroom with time to spare. When they arrived, the room was buzzing with eager anticipation. As usual, Caroline was showing off by hitting some fairly high notes... rather well, much to Kristen's chagrin. Michael noticed this, and leaned over in his seat.

"If she keeps that up, she'll have no voice left to use for the try-outs," he whispered.

Kristen smiled, gratefully, and opened her mouth to say something when someone suddenly shouted her name. Swiveling around in her chair, Kristen saw a young, blonde-haired man scrambling madly over the other chairs in a desperate attempt to reach her.

When he did finally reach her, his face was flushed, and he looked quite disheveled.

"You **_DO _**remember me, right Kristen?"

Kristen wracked her memory, trying to remember who this young, flamboyant individual was. Suddenly, it hit her like a ton of bricks.

"Roger? Roger Chandler? What are you doing here?"

Roger didn't seem to notice that her question was said in a slightly accusing tone. Instead, he merely wrapped his arms around Kristen, lifted her up and swung her around.

"You do remember! Oh, I'm so glad! It's been so long, I was afraid you had forgotten about me!"

Kristen was too shocked to do anything at first. When he stopped swinging her around and put her back down, the first thing she noticed was the look in Michael's eyes. It was a look of pure jealousy. Any icy stare fixed on Roger, so cold, Kristen was half expecting Roger to turn into a human-sized ice cube. And looking around, she also noticed the curious stares of the room's other occupants.

Luckily, she was spared any further embarrassing situations when Prof. Debbiene entered the room and called for order. Kristen was mortified when Roger kissed her hand and returned to his seat. She glanced over at Michael, who sat there fuming. She wanted to say something to him, but she dared not interrupt Prof. Debbiene. She simply had to wait.

_'I hate waiting,'_ she thought.

Fortunately, she didn't have to wait long. Her choral professor began calling out the names of his students in alphabetical order, and asking them which part they wanted to try out for. As the first student got up and took is place on the small stage, Kristen scooted her chair closer to Michael's.

"Michael, I..."

"Who is he?"

Before she could answer, the first student finished her song and sat down. Prof. Debbiene called Michael's name next. Confused, Kristen watched as he stood, told the professor his part, and prepared to sing. _'What's wrong with him?'_ Kristen thought. _'Why did he look at Roger like that?'_

She thought about those questions until Michael finished his song and returned to his seat. He sat there a moment, and then spoke.

"So, who is he?" He whispered.

Kristen was shocked at his tone of voice. It was hard and biting. "His name is Roger Chandler. He's an old friend."

"He seemed a little **_too_** friendly if you ask me."

Kristen fought to keep her emotions in control. "Michael Cranston, I don't see what business it is of yours who he is to me. How dare you?! What gives you the right...?" Kristen stopped, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks.

She moved away from him and focused instead on the student who was singing now. _'Perfect. It's Caroline.'_ She was singing "Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again," and doing fairly well at it. Kristen knew she was next, so she tried her hardest to compose herself.

When her professor called her name, she desperately tried to swallow the chocking lump in her throat as she stood. She heard some whisper "Good luck." It was Roger. She didn't acknowledge it, but steadily made her way to the front. Prof. Debbiene smiled when she got there.

"What part are you trying for, Kristen?"

"Christine, sir."

"Very well, what song are you going to sing?"

"Think of Me."

"Alright, start when you're ready."

Kristen nodded and the professor hummed the introduction. As she sang, Kristen became aware of a change in her larynx. It was strained. She remembered holding back her tears earlier and realized that was the worst thing she could have done. Now that her vocal chords were strained by that effort, she wouldn't be able to make it through the song.

_'But if I don't, Caroline is sure to get the part.'_

Her thoughts in turmoil, Kristen continued to sing. Prof. Debbiene hummed the song as she sung, allowing her to keep time and to ensure she stayed on the right notes. She was approaching the last part, and was still unsure of what to do.

_'I have to do it,'_ she thought. _'I have to make it.'_

Kristen took a deep breath and prepared to hit the last note. But what came out of her throat was not a graceful note, but instead something hideous. It sounded like a sick frog. The color drained from her face as she realized what happened.

_'I'm so stupid. It broke. My voice cracked.'_

A shocked silence permeated the room. Her voice hadn't done that in years, and it certainly hadn't done it in public. Kristen could sense everyone's stare and the stage lights seemed so oppressively hot. She opened her mouth to apologize, but no sound came out.

_'It can't be! Oh please no! Please don't let it be gone!'_

Kristen began to wobble as she stood there in silence. To her, it all seemed to happen in slow motion as she crumpled to the stage. The last thing she saw was the look of triumph on Caroline's face. Then, she spiraled into a state of dreamless sleep.

_**Author's notes: See? I put a Raoul-ish character in there. You all just had to be patient. Thanks to all of you who reviewed. I really appreciate it. Here are my replies to your reviews.**_

**_BalletRat: Umm, it actually IS possible to hit a High C at around 7:30-ish in the morning. I personally can't get that high anyway, but I've come pretty darn close to it. So, I know it's possible. But for your benefit, I put in Kristen's practice schedule. _**

**_erikorlando'sgirl: Thanks for all of that, I think. I had to read your review a couple of times to understand what you were saying. Yes, I love Erik too, and it's also my dream to find someone who also likes POTO as much as I do. Thanks again. _**

**_Nomi-clawskull: I'm afraid I don't quite know what a "Mary-Sue" is. Like I said, I'm still new at this fic writing thing. This story was actually based on a dream I had a long time ago, so I'm writing it as I remember. And as for who gets what part... don't get ahead of me. I tend to throw in surprises here and there._**

**_And last, but certainly not least... _**

**_Phantoms-angel1: I updated! _**


	3. Shocking Revelation

_There's a twist in here people! Sorry this chappie's kind of short, but work's been keeping me really busy. But I just had to put this in as soon as possible. Uhh... this story is turning out to be longer than I expected, so be prepared for some changes in the future. Not to the story, but as soon as I get more chappies written and submitted, I might be combining some of the previous ones. _

_Erik: Kaena, you're rambling again. Stop tormenting them and let them read! You're trying my patience. When am 'I' going to make an appearance?_

_Me: Don't mind him. He's just grumpy. :grins stupidly: Anyway, on with the show!_

_**Chapter Three**_

Michael raced through the lobby of the hospital, pausing long enough to ask the receptionist which room Kristen was in. The 22 year-old was breathing hard and mentally blaming and berating himself for having caused this.

_'This is all my fault! I should've been more understanding.'_

The elevator seemed to take forever as it ascended to the fifth floor of the hospital. At each floor there seemed to be hordes of people who wanted to get on and off. Michael had plenty of time to recap what had happened earlier.

After Kristen fainted, the room was silent for a moment. Then, everyone converged on the stage to lend assistance. Michael was a part of that crowd. But having been sitting somewhere near the back, it was difficult to push his way through. When he did make it through, however, he was relieved to see her being tended to by Prof. Debbiene, who shouted for someone to call an ambulance. He carried her off the stage and outside where it was cool. But Kristen did not stir.

When the ambulance arrived, one of the paramedics asked for the school's medical records for Kristen. After briefly reading through the file, the same paramedic asked to see the contents of Kristen's backpack. He rummaged through it a few moments, then pulled out a little brownish-orange bottle with a white lid. It was a bottle of prescription pills. He read the label, wrenched the lid off the bottle, pulled out a pill and forced it into Kristen's mouth. In that instant, the entire medical staff on hand seemed to relax slightly. Without another word, they loaded Kristen into the ambulance and drove off; sirens wailing.

Mhegan had been given the rest of the day off, and she went home to inform her mother about Kristen's accident. But Michael still had one more class to attend before he was finished for the day. The class was a blur, as he performed his studies almost robotically. When the final bell rang, Michael pulled out his cell phone and told his older brother, Phillip, that he would be a little late coming home.

Finally, the elevator made it to the fifth floor. Michael located Kristen's room and quietly walked in. Kristen's mother was there, as was Mhegan. But Michael's eyes were glued to the still form of Kristen.

_'She looks so pale,'_ he thought. And indeed she was pale. Since her fainting spell, the color had not returned to her cheeks. _'But surely she should have awakened by now. Something's not right here.'_

"How is she, Mhegan?" he asked. Mhegan's mother coughed lightly.

"It's alright, Mom," Mhegan said, "Michael's a friend of Kristen. Michael, this is my Mom, Suzanne." Her mother gazed suspiciously at him.

"It's true Ma'am. We're in the same Choral Class at college. My name is Michael Cranston," he told her, holding out his hand, which she shook, lightly.

"Very well, Mheg," she sighed, "I might as well tell him." Michael pulled up a chair next to Kristen's bed and focused his attention on Mhegan's mother as she gathered her thoughts and began to speak.

"Ever since she was young, my daughter was never quite... normal. And by that I mean she never participated in anything that required extreme physical exertion. She was always content to sit on the sidelines and read a book or listen to music. I always tried to encourage her to be more active, but Kristen never seemed to have the energy. That problem became real one day twelve years ago when Kristen was playing outside in the yard with some of her neighborhood friends. They ran up to the door shouting that Kristen had fainted. They said they were right in the middle of playing tag, when she just stopped, complained that her chest hurt, and fell down. I rushed her to the hospital. After the doctors examined her, they came to me with some shocking news." Suzanne paused, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. She continued on, shakily.

"They said that Kristen had a rare heart condition called **Coronary Artery Disease**; a narrowing of the arteries in the heart, often characterized by heart attacks. The disease should be nonexistent in children, but for some reason, Kristen had it. And the doctors couldn't understand or discover how someone so young could have suffered from a mild heart attack. They believe she might have been born with this problem, except the doctors couldn't detect it."

Michael was stunned. "How serious is it?"

"It can get quite serious the older she gets. She has medication to take for it, but she is now starting to need stronger doses to keep her arteries normal. She can't afford to miss a single dose, which is what the doctors believe happened today." Suzanne leaned over and touched her daughter's cheek. "She was so excited about the try-outs today; she nearly forgot her morning dose."

Suzanne looked pointedly at Michael. "There's no cure for this, Michael. And if the doctors are to be believed, they predict she won't live past 30."

At that moment, a nurse walked in, claiming that visiting hours were over. Michael said goodbye to Mhegan and her mother, and promised to visit tomorrow. As he walked home, he thought about what Suzanne had said.

_'She knows that at any moment, she could die; yet she lives her life so normally. That is true strength.'_ Michael tried to think about what he'd do if he were in Kristen's position. _'Probably curl up in a ball and never want to do anything ever again.' _Though he tried to find humor in that thought, the words of Kristen's mother still haunted him even when he reached home. Not even bothering to say goodnight to his brother, Michael lay in bed for a long time; sleep not coming to him. Deftly, he pulled out his copy of Susan Kay's 'Phantom,' switched on his reading light and began to read, until his mind finally cleared, and sleep came.

_**Authoress' notes: Thank you one and all for the reviews! You all make me sooo happy that people actually read my stuff and take the time to review. Once again, review replies.**_

_**erikorlando'sgirl: I LOVE ERIK, TOO!**_

_**Nomi-clawskull: Thanks for the info on the Mary-Sue thing. I promise you, although it sounds like it in the beginning, Kristen is not a Mary-Sue character. Please just be patient. There's a major twist at the end of my story that'll prove it. I suppose I should have made this a bit clearer, but Michael and Kristen knew each other long before these accounts, but were never really close. Michael because he was too shy, and Kristen... because of her condition.**_

_**jtbwriter: I'm glad you like the whole Roger appearance-Michael's reaction thing. Trust me, there's more coming.**_

_**Ballet-rat: Just be patient. That's all I can say.**_

_**AuronLives: Glad to hear from another singer. I prefer Classical Conservative pieces, but I also sing a bit of Italian Opera. As for my highest note, well... I can almost hit Christine's top note in the musical. (You all know which note 'that' is.)**_

_**Rubymoon2: No, I am not a Raoul-basher, I just happen to like Erik better. Raoul is a good character, and I like him. But like most Phan girls, I'd still turn the scorpion.**_

_**and once again, last but not least...**_

_**Phantoms-angel1: I updated again! And I DO like your story, and yes you ARE special!**_

**_P.S. I fixed the little glitch in the story Ballet-rat. Thanks. I told you Erik was impatient for a debut. It was supposed to be Michael._**


	4. Painful Reminiscence

_Ugh. Sorry for not writing sooner, but between work, surgeries, and festivals, I haven't been as creative as I would have liked lately. Plus, you may have noticed the summary is different. I changed it because the current storyline was too plodding, so I needed to speed it up a bit._

_Here's a bit of a longer chapter this time... I think. Plus, there's a flashback in here... ducks behind a desk Please don't hurt me! It's only one! And it's a little one! _

_Anyway, here's another action packed chapter. Another twist! Another peek into Kristen's tumultuous past! And Michael is a bit more romantic here. And, as usual, review replies at the end of the chappie. I never leave anyone out; so if you review my story, I will reply and acknowledge you, even if it's a flame!_

**Chapter Four**

It was a day and a half later that Kristen finally awoke. The sun was shining brightly through the window of the stark-white hospital room she was staying in. Mhegan and her mother were overjoyed to see her finally awake. Suzanne called for the doctor, and after he examined her, he pronounced her out of danger.

"Still," he said, "We'll keep her hear a little longer just to make sure. You're very lucky, Kristen. Had the paramedics not gotten that medicine into you when they did, you might not have made it. What was so important that made you forget to take your next dose?"

"Tryouts for a musical," Suzanne told the doctor. "She was so excited about it the other morning she nearly forgot her morning dose. I had to remind her before she left for college that day."

During their mother's explanation, Mhegan and Kristen exchanged confused glances. Softly, Kristen spoke up.

"But Mom, I didn't forget my afternoon dose. Mheg was right there when I took it at the water fountain outside the Choral classroom." Mheg nodded her head in affirmation.

At this revelation, the doctor's brow furrowed. "Hmm. That's not good."

Suzanne looked up at him worriedly. "What do you mean?"

The doctor sighed. "This means that we'll have to increase the dosage again." He sighed. "I had hoped that we wouldn't have needed to for at least another year or so." And with those uncomfortable words, the doctor retreated from the room.

A little later in the day, Kristen was visited by her choral teacher, Charles Debbiene. He had brought her a bouquet of bright yellow roses. He made small talk for a while, but there was only one thing Kristen wanted to know.

"Professor? What about the try-outs? How did they turn out?"

Prof. Debbiene hesitated imperceptibly. "Well, Roger Chandler got the part of Raoul, and Michael will be perfect for the part of Erik. Your sister will do well as 'Meg'..." His voice trailed.

"And 'Christine'? Who got the part of 'Christine'?" Kristen asked, impatiently.

"Kristen, your voice is that of an angel's. I know you've practiced and trained hard to cultivate your voice and bring out its fullest potential." Kristen beamed at these words of praise. "But..." he hesitated once more.

That single word brought Kristen's world crashing down around her. Still, she knew she had to hear it out. "But...?" she prompted.

"But I'm afraid I had to cast Caroline Giovanni as 'Christine'."

Kristen's face was deadpan. She showed no emotion on her face whatsoever as a single thought played itself over in her mind. _'I lost it,'_ she thought. _'I lost it all to Caroline. How could it be? It's not fair! **It's just not fair!**'_

The professor seemed to read her mind, and gently took her hand. "I know how much you wanted to play 'Christine', my dear, but I have my reasons for casting it this way. You shall play 'Carlotta'. I have heard you sing before, Kristen, and I know the range of your voice. Carlotta's parts extend much farther up the scale than Christine's. Caroline is the only other soprano I can think of who might be able to do that part justice, but I don't think her voice could stand the strain. You do understand this, correct?" Kristen forced herself to nod. He patted her hand. "Good. I know you are disappointed dear, but I truly feel that it's for the best. Now, there are a few people here who are waiting to see you." He stood and opened the door to her hospital room, and many of her fellow classmates filed into the room.

Kristen was overjoyed to see Michael with them, though her joy was shadowed by the appearance of Roger. But the most surprising face was that of Caroline's. Kristen had not expected to see her there with the others, but the look of concern on Caroline's face was enough to bring tears to her eyes. Caroline stepped forward and handed her a small velvet box. Kristen took it from her and gently opened the lid. Inside was a stunning pin in the shape of a crimson red rosebud.

Kristen was speechless. Up until that point, the two girls had never been very close; but Caroline's gift was heartfelt and Kristen didn't quite know what to say.

"Thank you," she whispered. Caroline shuffled a little where she stood.

"You **_do_** like it, right? Just a little bit?" she asked, shyly.

Kristen had never heard her sound so unsure before. "Yes, I do, Caroline. It's lovely." She heard Caroline give a small sigh.

At that moment, Roger stepped forward and sat next to her bed, gently taking her hand. "Kristen, I want you to know that I'm here for you..."

Kristen violently jerked her hand away. "I'm sure you are!" she spat, venomously. "Just like you were there for me last time!"

"But Kristen...!" he sputtered.

"Get out!" she screamed. "Get out! I don't want you here! I don't want you to hurt me again! **_GET OUT!_**"

At such a violent outburst, Roger nearly tumbled out of his chair, scrambling out the door; as did many others as well. Michael sat on the bed and wrapped his arms around Kristen, gently restraining her, while trying to comfort her at the same time. Kristen pushed against him, trying to escape, but he only held her tighter and gently started to sing.

_Softly, deftly, music shall surround you _

_Feel it, hear it, closing in around you _

_Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind _

_In this darkness which you know you cannot fight _

_The darkness of the music of the night.  
Let your mind start a journey through a strange new world _

_Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before _

_Let your soul take you where you long to be _

_Only then can you belong to me_.

_Floating, falling, sweet intoxication _

_Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation _

_Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in _

_To the power of the music that I write _

_The power of the music of the night_

He felt her finally relax and he stopped singing, but he couldn't bear to release her. Apparently, during his aria, Prof. Debbiene had taken Kristen's mother, Suzanne out of the room. Looking around, the room's only other occupant was Mhegan, who stared at him, transfixed.

"Wow!" she whispered. "Now I can understand why the Professor gave you the part of the Phantom. You're perfect for it."

Michael blushed, slightly. He wasn't used to praise. "How is she?" he asked her.

"She's asleep now. You know, Mike, I think she likes you."

Michael blushed even deeper, but Mhegan's words gave him an unexpected thrill. "It's true." she continued. "The past couple of days since the Professor's announcement, she's been kind of dreamy-eyed. And it's not because of the excitement about the trip. I know my sister, and I've seen that look in her eyes before." Mhegan paused, and she frowned slightly.

"Roger?" Michael questioned.

Mhegan nodded. "He and Kristen had something going a while back. I don't think Kristen ever quite got over it."

"What do you mean?"

"Perhaps I should start at the beginning. It started about four years ago. Kristen was 16; Roger was 17. They had been going steady for a while, and everyone thought they were the perfect couple. So did Kristen. But then, it happened. Kristen had had another one of her attacks during school, and was rushed to the hospital. At the time, Kristen was afraid to tell anyone about her problem. She was afraid Roger would hate her, and she'd be all alone. Mother kept urging her to tell Roger about it, but Kristen kept putting it off, saying she would when she thought the time was right."

Mhegan paused and took a shaky breath. Michael began to guess what had happened, but allowed her continue.

"The night after Kristen came home from the hospital, Roger paid her a visit. Mother went upstairs to get ready for bed, but I stayed in the kitchen, eavesdropping on the conversation in the living room. I remember the incident all too well..."

---:---

Kristen sat down on the couch next to Roger, and tucked her legs up under her. Both were silent for a moment, before Kristen finally spoke.

"Roger, I'm sorry. I..."

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked her, accusingly.

"I'm sorry; I meant to tell you but..."

"But what? It just 'slipped your mind'?! Something like that doesn't just slip your mind, Kristen! All this time, I thought everything was perfect between us, but it wasn't!" He stood up and began to pace around the room, angrily clenching his fists, and continuing his tirade.

"You led me to believe that everything was fine with you, but it's not! Look at you, the slightest bit of physical strain sends you straight to the hospital room! You're constantly taking pills like you're a freak or something!"

---:---

Mhegan wiped the tears from her eyes, and continued. "At that moment, Mother practically leaped down the steps and flew at him. She pushed him away from Kristen, and nearly sent him sliding across the dining room table. She yelled at him to get out of her house."

"'Get out of my house before I throw you out headfirst!'" Mhegan said, accurately mimicking her mother's ferocity.

Michael was shocked. He was also assaulted with a fresh wave of guilt. _'No wonder she reacted that way she did when I attacked her about Roger.'_ Roger. At that moment, Michael wanted to stalk the guy and strangle him for hurting Kristen like that. He knew it would do no good, but... _'But I care for her." _He rested his cheek on the top of her head, closed his eyes, and whispered a silent prayer for her safety. Mhegan rose, said something about leaving Kristen's backpack full of her favorite stuff by her bedside, and silently left.

He didn't know how long he stayed like that, but when a nurse finally came in and said visiting hours were over, Michael's arms were stiff and cramped. He gently laid Kristen back down on the bed and, ignoring the sly look from the nurse, headed towards the door. But at the last moment, he turned around, walked over and picked up Kristen's backpack. Pulling out his well-worn, dog-eared copy of Susan Kay's "Phantom" out of his back pocket, he slipped it into her pack and headed out the door.

Slipping into the driver's seat of the car he borrowed from his brother, Michael sat for a moment and turned on the radio. Suddenly, the song "All I Ask of You" emanated from the speakers. He listened, transfixed by the words he now saw in a new light, thanks to the relation of Kristen's past. A subconscious decision caused him to sing the male's part, and he put his soul into it.

_Let me be your shelter,_

_Let me be your light._

_You're safe:_

_No-one will find you._

_Your fears are far behind you . . ._

Michael trailed off at that time, his thoughts turbulent. But one thing was quite clear to him. _'I will always be there for you, Kristen. I will be there to dry your tears. I will be a shoulder for you to cry on, and I will never let anyone hurt you again. As long as there is breath in my lungs, no one will ever hurt you again.'_ His thoughts drifted to Roger, and his grip on the steering wheel tightened. _'Never again. I swear it.'_

_----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_**Authoress' notes: Once again, my deepest thanks to all of you who review my stories. I am in your debt, and you are an encouragement to me to continue. As promised, review replies!**_

_**Nicole: See, she's awake now! Err... well, she was... Anyway, Robert wasn't there because he was... well, a jerk that's why. You're right, he should have been there for her if he cared, but does he really?**_

_**erikorlando'sgirl: Yay Tigers! Yay Erik! Yay Michael! Sorry, I just like to share in the enthusiasm. Yep, she's got a ticker problem, and it will factor in later in the story. I updated, but sorry it wasn't as quickly as it should have been. You've been one of the few who have reviewed nearly every chapter I've written, and I'm honored. Thank you so much!**_

_**BalletRat: You too have been one of the few who have reviwed nearly every chappie. A big thank you goes to you as well. And sorry about the whole Erik/Michael thing. I had the parallel of the two on my mind, and Erik somehow slipped in there. It was purely a typo. **_

_**jtbwriter: Yep, it's twist alright. And there's more to come by way of twists. As for what happens next, well, in the next chappie, Kristen may finally go back in time... but I make no promises.**_

_**Shero: Thanks for the review, and I'll bring on more chappies as soon as I can write them.**_

_**AuronLives: I know, it's horrible. I squeak it too, and my Mom laughs at me. Not mean or anything, I just sound funny. Like a sick canary or something. I can reach the notes right before the last one, but I can't quite hit that top note. I keep aiming for it, though. One day, by God's grace, I'll reach it. Just have to keep practicing.**_

_**And last but not least...**_

_**Healing Hands: Wow! Three times! Glad you like it so much! And guess what... I updated!**_


	5. Through the Looking Glass

**_I'm still here people! I haven't gone anywhere, I just had that little thing called 'real life' get in my way a bit. However, I've returned, and by God's grace, I'll be updating more frequently. My Mom has read my story, and has become my Beta-reader, so it'll now be better than ever. Also, I'm nursing the idea of actually getting this story published when it's finished. What's you opinion on that? If I published it, would you read it?_**

**Chapter Five**

_Darkness. That's all she could see. A darkness that surrounded her and pressed on her like a vise. She couldn't see. She couldn't breathe. She was frightened. "Michael?" she called out. "Mhegan? Mother?" No answer. Suddenly, a light shone up ahead. A pure, white light, having no shape. Just swirling… whiteness. It began to draw closer. '**Kristen,' **it called. "Who are you?" she asked. **'I am your Angel of Music. Come to me, Angel of Music.'** Kristen found herself inexorably drawn to the voice which seemed to emanate from the light. The comforting voice surrounded her, wrapping her in a cocoon of sound which seemed to come from Heaven itself. As Kristen reached the source of the voice, the white light coalesced into the form of a snow-white mask, framed by a corona of swirling light. A mask, the shape of which she knew all too well. "What do you want with me?" she asked, her voice sounding hollow and incomplete. The mask said nothing, but merely stared at her with invisible eyes. **'You wish to sing.'** It was more a statement than a question. Kristen said nothing, and nodded.** 'Then sing you shall.'** To Kristen, the mask appeared to smile in its own way. The light behind the mask grew brighter, until its rays engulfed Kristen in its pure white… innocence. _

:---

"And then, I woke up," Kristen said. She glanced at Michael, who stood by the window of her hospital room, gazing out at the afternoon sun, and appearing lost in thought. "What does it mean?" she queried to no one in particular.

"I'm not sure, Kris," he replied, answering her undirected question. "I'm not much of an interpreter."

Kristen was going to be discharged from the hospital in a few minutes, and Michael had offered to drive her home; much to Kristen's secret delight. And much to Michael's joy, Kristen agreed.

A nurse came in at that moment and told Kristen that she could leave. Michael turned.

"I'll wait outside in the car for you."

Kristen nodded, stood up, grabbed the clothes her mother had left for her, and walked into the bathroom.

It took only a few moments to change and make herself look presentable. She examined herself in the mirror, and was pleased with what she saw. With tenderness, she pinned the crimson rosebud to her breast and fingered it gently.

Suddenly, a soft wind blew across her hair, and a gentle voice whispered her name. _"Kristen. Kristen."_ Startled, she whirled around, but no one else was in the room; and, oddly enough, the window near the bed was closed. Common sense soon replaced her momentary fear. The building's central air conditioning unit turning on had probably caused the wind. _'And the voice?' _her mind asked itself.

"Probably coming from the vent," she mused to herself, aloud. "Someone from another room, most likely." Even though she had come up with some reasonable explanations, the apprehension she felt refused to leave her. Her skin prickled, and the hair on the back of her neck stood up. The air was thick with tension, and almost impossible to breathe. She had to get out, and quickly too. Exiting the bathroom, she gathered the remainder of her things, shoved them in her backpack, which she slung over her shoulder, and headed towards the elevator.

The door opened immediately on her floor and she stepped inside, finding herself alone in the car. The doors closed with a silent hiss, and Kristen couldn't help but feel that she had just been shut off from the world. She pressed the button for the ground floor, and with a jolt, the car began to move. Its descent seemed slow and deliberate, even though no one else was getting on. It seemed like centuries would pass between each floor, and Kristen began to get impatient.

She wasn't claustrophobic; she just wasn't comfortable in the small room she was in. Made of highly polished steel, the walls of the elevator resembled a large mirror. She almost felt sorry for the person who had to come in here to clean and polish the elevators every day, yet admired them for that very same reason. She could see her reflection so clearly on the door -the only place where the handrail didn't cut through- and smiled.

All of a sudden, another soft breeze ruffled her hair, and she heard her name called again. Her smile turning into a worried frown, she stared fixedly at the elevator doors -from where the voice had emanated. Her eyes locked on her reflection, and she noticed it ripple, like a breeze blowing softly on the surface of the water. Her eyes narrowed, and her curiosity piqued. Against her better judgment, she took several cautious steps forward until she stood just two feet away. Again, the voice called her name.

_"Come to me, my angel."_

Kristen stared transfixed at her image, as her hand lifted towards the door, though not of her will. As her fingers almost grazed the surface, she was snapped back to reality as a black-gloved hand shot through the door's rippling surface and gripped her own. She opened her mouth to scream, but a numbing cold froze every fiber of her being. Ever so gently, a voice began to sing to her. A male voice so pure, it was simply perfection. There was no other way to describe it. As it called to her, her body responded, as her mind merely witnessed the fateful turn of events.

She stepped 'through' the door and into darkness. Not an evil darkness, just one devoid of physical light. Oddly, it reminded her of her dream. The same apprehension, the same feeling of breathlessness, and the same sensation of knowing that someone was there, watching… waiting.

She was also aware that whoever had gripped her hand the first time was still there; and still had a firm hold on her wrist. A shaft of lantern-light fell across her face, and she was momentarily blinded. She squinted and turned away, shielding her eyes from the harsh glare. Immediately, the lantern was turned away from her face, and bright purple and blue spots swam through her vision -afterimages of the source of the intrusive beam.

"Forgive me, mademoiselle. I had forgotten that your eyes do not adjust as well as mine."

Something deep inside Kristen stirred. Even though she had never before heard this man's voice, almost instinctively, she knew. There was only one whose voice was so physically pure, that even his normal speaking voice was captivating. Her vision cleared, she turned to look at him. Instantly, he dropped her hand and turned away from her, but Kristen still caught the briefest flash of white beneath the collar of his coat.

"I would prefer it if you turned away, mademoiselle. You might not like what you see."

Kristen squared her shoulders. "And how would you know that, monsieur?"

"I know much. And have experienced much, as well. Far more than most, I daresay."

She smiled. "Let me be the judge of that, Erik."

Caught entirely off guard, the man whirled around to face her. There was no denying the look of utter shock beneath that stunning white mask that covered his face. His bright golden eyes sparked with an almost curious anger. Kristen realized that she had breached a major defense by letting him realize that she knew his name. For if she knew his name, then surely there must be more of him that she knew; and that fact both amused and frightened him. But for his benefit, Kristen said nothing more to him.

As for Kristen, she wasn't sure what to make of the whole situation. She had no idea what happened, or how she got to wherever she was, but there was one thing she _was _certain of; she couldn't explain the feeling of absolute… rightness about it. To her, it seemed like a dream come true. Before her stood the man she had cried over and dreamed about since she had opened the first page of her Phantom of the Opera book nearly four years ago. How many times had Kristen's fingertips brushed the surface of her own full-length mirror, hoping beyond hope? How many times had she lain awake at night, listening through the deafening silence, straining to hear his voice? Yet now, here he stood before her, the ghost that haunted her dreams, the perfect voice that inspired her own to strive for perfection. It was almost too much to take in.

In fact, it _WAS_ too much to take in. Kristen once again felt her left arm go numb. Her breathing became shallow and ragged, as her heart pounded loudly in her ears. She swayed, her equilibrium thrown off. She felt herself falling, and flung her hand outward. It was caught in Erik's strong grip as he pulled her towards him. He slid to the ground, holding her gently in his arms as her breathing slowed. However, though her breathing stabilized, she was unconscious.

Erik contemplated how to handle the situation. He had never had a woman faint in his arms, and he wasn't quite sure what to do. He couldn't take her home; it was too dangerous. _'Dangerous to whom?'_ he thought to himself. This woman had surprised him by knowing his name. That fact left him feeling quite vulnerable; not a sensation he was used to.

Undaunted, however, he gathered her in his arms, and made his way out of the cellar towards the upper levels. Careful to avoid any prying eyes, he stealthily edged his way towards the dressing rooms. Several of them were not in use, so Erik decided it was best to care for her there, than in his home. Placing her gently on the bed, and leaving her pack nearby, he stood back and stared at her, thoughtfully. She hadn't fainted out of fear, of that much he was certain. When his eyes met hers, there was no look of shock or horror, only one of serene understanding. His hand trembling slightly, he reached forward and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face.

With an audible gasp, he backed away and exited, pulling the door quietly shut behind him. His emotions bordered on the edge of something forbidden. He didn't know how or why he brought her here, but something reached out to him. Something across space and time, and he decided to embrace it. _'Just as you embraced her.'_ He shook his head, clearing it, and then stalked all the way back to his home. Slamming the door shut, he sat at the immense pipe organ and threw himself into his _Don Juan Triumphant_, almost as if in punishment. He refused to think about the all-knowing young woman who had fainted mysteriously in his arms. _'Who is she? But more importantly, how much does she know?'_ After striking a powerful chord, he allowed the music to drain away, leaving him gasping for breath in the vacuum of silence that always followed his work. He would find out more about this woman who knew his name. He would find out how much she knew, and then he would decide what to do with her. He sighed. Sleep would not be his companion this night. Too much had transpired. And more was to come. So much more.

_**As per my promise... Review replies!**_

_**Shero: Thank you for the compliment. I'm glad you enjoy it, and I'm glad you appreciate Kristen and Michael's relationship.**_

_**BalletRat: I told you I had some twists to throw in there. Be warned! There's more to come!**_

_**phtmangl1013: Sorry it took a while to update again, but I hope to have more chappies up more quickly soon. And I agree about Roger; however, it makes Kristen and Michael's relationship all the more special, doesn't it?**_

_**jtbwriter: Glad to hear small flashies are alright with you all. I know I don't like a whole lot of them in a story, but I think a few every once in a while are o-kay. 'Now what' you ask? 'Wait and see' I reply!**_

_**BlackRoseGirl: I WAS contemplating her getting the part of 'Christine', but I just thought that it had been done too many times already, so I made it a bit of a twist. It makes me happy to hear that you like my story. Thanks for reviewing!**_

_**AuronLives: Umm... I guess I did sort of die for a while. But I'm alive again. I know what you mean about real life issues holding back your creativity, though. I hope you DO like where this goes; I've got a few surprises left in store...**_

_**Brosia: You lost sleep reading... I lost sleep writing. Sorry I made you suffer from a mild case of insomnia, but it thrills me to hear you say it was worth it. Thank you!**_

_**Healing Hands: Thank you for being one of the only ones who doesn't want to punjab Roger. He DOES have his good points like... uhh... And then... umm... never mind. I WILL keep on writing. Erik would have it no other way.**_

_**Gisele: Okay... I just might do that...**_

_**Lioness-Rampant: Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! People like you are what keep me excited about putting up the next chappie!**_

_**And to my most recent reviewer...**_

_**PhantomSith: Yes, I did choose it because of Michael Crawford -the first Phantom. If you'll notice, 99 of all my characters have names reflecting either the characters in the book/musical, or the people who portrayed them. Kristen/Christine, Michael Cranston/Michael Crawford, Roger Chandler/Raoul de Chagny; just to name a few. As for your curiosity, please be curious! Ask me questions about anything you don't understand, or that sound odd. Be a semi-Beta reader for me. Point out my mistakes and I shall fix them.**_

_**That being said and done, I have one more thing to add...**_

_**I'm having trouble thinking of a last name for Kristen(If you've noticed, I've never mentioned it.). Anyway, I'd like to ask you all to give me some ideas for a good last name that can be synonymous to 'Daae'. I'll choose the one I like best from your submissions and give you full credit for it in the next chappie! Please help me on this!**_


End file.
